Archimedes was oblivious. He was too busy teaching his cub basic skills. The cub took the vines and, tongue sticking out of a corner of his mouth, tied a perfect granny knot. Archimedes sighed and corrected it into a square knot. The cub smiled up at his father and I experienced a jolt of—well, something. Pride? Envy? Wistfulness? Maybe all of the above. It was hard to sort out. My eyes were watering, and I had to suppress a strong urge to re-watch one of the recordings of Riker’s chats with our family.
